


Your Drinking Eyes Never Open

by hyxcinthus



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Getting Together, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, he also ovethinks way too much, jon has adhd because i said so, jon is too curious for his own good, martin is a poet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyxcinthus/pseuds/hyxcinthus
Summary: “So, you fancy someone,” Jon interrupted.Martin was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”“Do… I get to know who it is?”“Oh, erm—”“No, no, you don’t have to tell me,” Jon added quickly. His heart sank in his chest. The poem wasn’t about a past love or someone fictional romance. It was real. Martin liked someone. Presently. It hurt more than he cared to admit.Martin let out a breath of relief. “Thanks.”“You should tell them though. I’m sure they like you back.”Martin smiled shyly.“Sorry,” Jon said. “This is all a bit sixth form, isn’t it.”Martin laughed. “A bit, yeah.”
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 352





	Your Drinking Eyes Never Open

Jon sighed as Martin left his office. They’d taken to working in the same room these days. Martin said that he couldn’t really focus in his shared office with Tim and Sasha, so Jon offered up a space in his. He had plenty of room after all. And if he got to see Martin more than usual, that wasn’t a bad addition. Not at all. 

He knew he should’ve put an end to this crush nonsense a long time ago. They’d only just become proper friends and Jon didn’t want to ruin that. If Martin ever found out… No, he couldn’t think about that right now. Besides, he was Martin’s boss. Nothing would come of it anyway. Not that anything _could_ come of it even if he wasn’t. As if he, the guy who works way too hard and has the emotional range of a crisp, could ever be good enough for Martin K. Blackwood. 

Jon rubbed his hands over his face and pushed himself out of his chair. Martin made him promise that he’d go home today, get a good night’s sleep. As he was about to leave, he noticed something on his desk. The leather bound journal he saw Martin writing in earlier.

He probably shouldn’t look. He _really_ shouldn’t look. 

After a few minutes of deliberating with himself, Jon clicked his tongue in irritation and picked the journal up. He was just taking it home to keep it safe, he told himself. 

When he got home, he set the thing on the table, unable to look away from it. He shouldn’t look. He _couldn’t._

But he wanted to _know._

Curiosity got the better of him. He opened up to a random page and started reading. It was poetry. Jon knew that Martin wrote poetry, but he’d never actually read any of it. It was quite good. 

He went through a couple of poems before reading one that made his breath catch in his throat. 

_I wish I could see you,_

_All that you are,_

_No fog blurring the view,_

_Though you seem very far._

_You think you are dark,_

_The antithesis of light,_

_But I can see a shine_

_Through the mist and it is bright,_

_For even Icarus was beautiful_

_Before he fell to the waters below._

_Oh, how I wish I could see you,_

_How I wish I could be hollow,_

_No more._

Martin liked someone. Jon felt something sink in his chest. “This is stupid,” he whispered to himself. He never had a chance anyway, so why was he so upset? Jon closed the book and placed it in his bag. 

That night he dreamt of broken wings and falling. 

~

Martin was already in his office when Jon got to work the next day. He was the only other person who had a key. There were two mugs of tea on his desk, one that Martin was diligently making his way through. It was a common enough thing. Martin had brought him tea in the mornings way before they ever became friends. Yet, this time, it felt different. Jon felt a pang in his chest. 

“Morning,” he said as casually as he could. 

Martin gave him a small smile. “Good morning.” 

Jon sat down and pulled the journal out of his bag. Martin’s eyes widened when he saw it. “Er, you left this here last night.” 

“Oh… right… thank you,” Martin said and grabbed it from him. “You didn’t, erm, you didn’t read it, did you?” 

Jon looked away. He couldn’t look at Martin’s face as he told him. “Well…” 

“Oh god,” Martin said quietly. 

“I- I thought they were work notes, I swear.” 

“Jon—” 

“I only read three—” 

“Three?” Martin’s voice was getting higher by the second. 

“I’m sorry, Martin. I…” Jon let out a sigh. “They were quite good, you know.” 

“Were they?” 

“Yeah, erm, I- I liked the one where you mentioned Icarus.” 

Martin let out a small laugh. “You’ll have to be more specific about that one. I mention him quite a lot.” 

“Er, it was the one about the fog?”

“Oh.” A blush painted over Martin’s face. “Oh,” he said again. “Jon, I—” 

“So, you fancy someone,” Jon interrupted. 

Martin was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.” 

“Do… I get to know who it is?” 

“Oh, erm—” 

“No, no, you don’t have to tell me,” Jon added quickly. His heart sank in his chest. The poem wasn’t about a past love or someone fictional romance. It was real. Martin liked someone. Presently. It hurt more than he cared to admit.

Martin let out a breath of relief. “Thanks.” 

“You should tell them though. I’m sure they like you back.” 

Martin smiled shyly. 

“Sorry,” Jon said. “This is all a bit sixth form, isn’t it.” 

Martin laughed. “A bit, yeah.” 

“Right.” 

They got to work after that. Jon found he couldn’t quite concentrate. That wasn’t exactly out of the normal for him. Though, usually the reason he was distracted was because the statement he was reading didn’t quite grasp his attention and he wanted to find another one to read. This time, he was distracted by the man sitting opposite him. 

Martin didn’t write in his journal all day that day. To be honest, Jon was a little disappointed by that. He never really paid attention when Martin wrote. He wanted to see his face as he came up with the rhyme and meter. He wanted to see the cogs turning in his mind as he tried to think of the next word. 

God, he needed to get a life. 

~

Martin needed to leave early that day, dentist appointment, so Jon ate his lunch with Tim and Sasha. He usually wouldn’t engage in anything other than small talk with them, though he’d been warming up a bit. He just couldn’t get rid of this itching feeling that Tim and Sasha _knew_ something about this. 

“Do you know if Martin fancies anyone?” he blurted out, unable to hold the question back any longer. 

Tim and Sasha shared a look then burst out laughing. 

“Yes, we rather think he does,” Sasha said once she got her breathing under control.

Jon eyed them warily. 

“You’re joking, right?” Tim asked through soft chuckles. “It’s not like he’s subtle.” 

“What are you talking about?” Jon looked between Sasha and Tim. “Who does he like?” 

“Oh, I don’t think we’re the ones to tell you, boss,” Tim said with a grin. “You’ll find out soon enough.” 

~

Jon did not, as Tim put it, find out soon enough. In fact, it was a whole two months of desperately trying to get over his crush on Martin later, that he _did_ find out. It was well into winter at that point and London was a muggy grey. Martin and Jon were sat at their desk, drinking their tea, and trying to get their work done. 

It was one of those rare days where Martin didn’t have to do a follow up outside of the institute and Jon wasn’t reading any statements. The room was blissfully quiet and warm. Jon wished he could lay his head down on his desk and sleep. He hadn’t gone home the night before. By the time he realized how late it was, he didn’t have time to go back to his flat before he needed to come back to work again. Martin gave him a stern talking to for that. 

He was exhausted. 

Before he knew it, his eyes were closed and he pillowed his head into his arms. 

Jon didn’t usually have good dreams, especially not when he fell asleep in the institute. However, this one was rather pleasant. He was lying in a field, the sun shining on his face. He was wearing one of Martin’s sweaters. It came halfway down his thigh, but it was so warm and cozy that Jon didn’t care. He rarely got that sort of peace these days. 

Jon jolted upright when he finally awoke. Something thumped to the floor as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked down. A jacket. _Martin’s_ jacket. It had been draped over him in the time he’d been asleep. 

He bit his lip and smiled. He genuinely smiled. Then, a thought popped into his head. Could he be—? No, that was ridiculous. Surely, he wasn’t—. 

Martin walked into the room, breaking his train of thought. 

“Look who’s up,” he said. “This is why you go home when you’re meant to.” 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Jon said. 

There was silence for a while. 

“Martin?” 

“Hm?” 

“This person you like…” 

Martin looked up from his paperwork tentatively. “Yes?” 

“Do they work for the institute?” 

“Oh, er, yes. Yes, they do.” 

“In the archives?” 

Martin wouldn’t meet his eyes, but he nodded. 

Jon bit his lip, not knowing how to ask if it was him without outright _asking_ if it was him. He wasn’t even sure he _should_ be asking. He decided not to say anything else. 

Martin watched him carefully. “You know, don’t you. You know who the poem’s about.” 

“I really don’t, Martin.” 

“It’s okay, you know, if you don’t feel the same.” 

Jon must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Oh, come on, Jon. Who else in the archives would I compare to Icarus. Tim? Sasha? You don’t have to pretend you don’t know. _It’s fine_.” 

“You… you like me?” Jon asked in utter disbelief. 

“I mean… yeah.” 

Something like warmth bloomed in Jon’s chest. “Well, I… I rather like you too.” 

Martin’s gaze met his, eyes full of surprise. “Really?”

Jon nodded. 

Martin smiled, then started laughing. “God, this really is so sixth form.” 

Jon let out a few quiet chuckles too. It had been awhile since he laughed. It felt quite nice. “Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.” 


End file.
